I am not such a clever one about the latest fadsI admit I was never one adored by local ladsNot that I ever tried to be a saintI’m the type that they classify as quaint

I’m old fashioned, I love the moonlightI love the old fashioned thingsThe sound of rain upon a window paneThe starry song that April singsThis years fancies are passing fanciesBut sighing sighs, holding handsThese my heart understands

I’m old fashioned but I don’t mind itThat’s how I want to beAs long as you agreeTo stay old fashioned with me.